Doubt In Your Faith
by ForeverLilacLies
Summary: Daryl had made a mistake last time with Rick. Last time, he had let Rick walk away, which led to Negan being spared. Not this time. This time, Rick was gonna stay and he was gonna listen.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning(s): Daryl is sort dark in this oneshot. I'm telling you now if you don't like asshole Daryl turn back now. I'm not putting up with anyone complaining if they don't read the warnings first.**

* * *

So it had finally come to this. Years of fighting off the dead and losing so many people and Daryl was about to lose one more. Merle, Beth, Glenn and so many more people dead and Rick was ready to throw it all away for the sake of a killer. What was he thinking, putting him in charge of the Sanctuary? Daryl would gladly have locked them all inside and set the structure ablaze.

Maggie had the right idea. Kill Negan while Rick was away. Make sure there were no distractions. But Rick had found out and had tried desperately to reach out to Alexandria, to stop Maggie. Daryl wasn't going to allow it. Not this time.

'No exceptions.'

He had offered Rick a ride back to Alexandria. Rick had accepted, surprised by Daryl's sudden urge to help, but desperate to stop Maggie before she reached Negan. He hadn't even considered that Daryl would plan anything else. they had rode for several minutes before Daryl had taken a turn down a path leading away from the community, assuring Rick that it was a short cut that the bikes could make with ease. It had lasted for a couple minutes until Rick recognized part of the trail and realized what Daryl was doing.

From there it had escalated. Daryl had pulled over and Rick had gotten off, preparing to go on foot. Neither had been good at leaving things alone and it continued on. Daryl shoved the bike down and Rick took a step towards him, shoulders squared up in an attempt to make himself appear larger. Daryl expected him to swing. Expected a fight, but Rick as usual, had disappointed him.

"I don't have time for this." Rick had muttered, stepping away from Daryl, casting him a disgusted look. As if he had any right to be the disgusted party. As if he hadn't hidden away a beast and continued to feed and care for him.

Rick was turning, leaving him. Leaving him for **Negan**. Red haze filled Daryl's vision. He lunged forward, hand shooting out to grab Rick by the bicep and yank him back. Rick stumbled, turning towards Daryl and wrenching his arm free, jaw clenching. It was reminiscent of their fight last time, when their egos and rage had clashed with violence. That violence had not wandered far. Rick stepped towards him, head tilting and narrowing his eyes.

"You know...all these Saviors goin' missing. What the hell is goin' on? Arat was found with a bullet in her head. No one seems to want to talk, so why don't you tell me?"

"Ya wanna know? Fine. She got what was comin' to her. She confessed and we let 'em do what was needed." He wouldn't give names. Rick seemed to catch on to this and he shook his head, throat bobbing.

"You let them kill her..." Rick stared.

"She killed a kid. Made his sister beg. She deserved to die. If someone put down Carl or lil' ass kicker, I woulda done the same." Daryl replied defensively. There was indecision in Rick's eyes.

"Daryl, you're my brother." Rick's eyes were darting between his, searching for something long gone. "I don't want this to come between us. Not now. We need to talk. All of us." Rick's voice was a force calm, but Daryl knew him well enough to catch that slight waver, showing that he wasn't in control as he thought he was. The time for talking was over.

"Brother?" Daryl's voice came out a near rasp. "You forget 'bout Shane? Y'all were brothers 'till you killed 'im." He studied Rick, taking a step back, hands limp at his side. "Guess that sorta thing don't matter much to ya." Daryl spit out, bitterly eyes narrowed as they watched Rick's every movement. Rick looked torn between throwing a punch at him or flinching away. Instead he set his jaw and turned again, ready to walk back to Alexandria on foot.

Daryl had made a mistake last time with Rick. Last time, he had let Rick walk away, which led to Negan being spared. Not this time. This time, Rick was gonna stay and he was gonna listen. A new hierarchy was taking place and Rick was going to accept it. He lunged forward again. They had always been evenly matched, but Daryl had the advantage. Rick still wasn't taking him seriously. Rick was still naive in that sense. Like the Rick Grimes from that night on the farm with Daryl hd not wandered far, despite appearances.

He was going to learn.

They were in the dirt. Rick was struggling, unable to buck Daryl off his hips. Daryl's hands were scrabbling to grasp at Rick's wrist, stopping the punch Rick had attempted to throw and delivering one of his own. Once. Twice. Three times. There was blood on Daryl's knuckle, the skin split and oozing crimson.

'What is your name?'

Rick had done this. Rick had caused this. He had led them down this path. He had sent Carol away, he had sent Daryl to that dark place where Daryl had never wanted to set foot in again. He had let that animal live, like some monster in the basement. He had seen the way the beast looked at Rick. Like he wanted him. Wanted to consume him. Had Rick been messing around with Negan behind their backs? Was that why he hadn't killed him?

'Daryl.'

He remembered the bat cracking against Glenn's skull, remembered Maggie's broken wails and labored breath. The smell of blood had been overwhelming. There had been so much of it...

'I'll find you...'

Daryl's hands found their way around Rick's throat and he began to squeeze.

'Let people see it and maybe everyone moves past what's happened to what could happen and maybe, just maybe, it'd be one of the best decisions you ever made ... like not killing a guy who left your brother on a rooftop to die.'

"Shoulda' killed ya back then," Daryl's voice was shaking. "Ya ain't my brother. My brother's dead." His thumbs dug into the soft flesh at the base of Rick's throat. Rick struggled, hands grasping at Daryl's wrists in an attempt to free himself.

"Ya did this Rick. Ya ain't letting' Negan live for **Carl**. You're lettin' 'im live 'cause ya always gotta be in control. Ricktatorship never really went away. It ain't gonna be like that no more."

'The choices seem pretty obvious.'

Negan's voice continued to whisper in his ear, mocking him. It nearly drowned out he sound of Rick's choking and gasping for air, Daryl squeezed tighter, listening as a high wheezing noise escaped the man' throat.

"Ya don't know what it was like. I was his dog. Ya got no idea what he was really like." Daryl could smell it still. Every time he walked into the Sanctuary, everytime he met the former Savior's eyes, he knew what they knew. He had been their dog.

'You get three choices. One. You wind up on the spike, and you work for me as a dead man. Two. You get out of your cell, you work for points, but you're gonna wish you were dead. Or three. You work for me...'

"Ys ain't stoppin' her this time, Rick. She gonna take care of your mistakes." Daryl murmured, steadying himself on top of Rick. Rick's grasp on Daryl's hands wavered, his bright eyes blinking furiously, tinged with red.

'The choices seem pretty obvious.'

"Ya got choices to make. Ya let her do what she gotta do. Ya try to fight me n' get hurt or ya leave. Ya know what ya gotta do, Rick. There ain't any other options. This is it." Daryl's voice trailed off, lips pulling back into a snarl.

'You should know, there is no door number four. This is it.'

"It's the only way."

'This is the only way.'

Rick's knee suddenly shot up and into Daryl's gut, loosening the older man's grip on Rick's throat. It was all Rick needed to pull his leg back before solidly kicking Daryl in the stomach, sending him onto the ground with a pained grunt. Rick scrambled back, hand fumbling for his gun. He was coughing hoarsely, unable to get a solid grip on his weapon. Daryl remained sitting, stomach aching from the hit. He placed a shaking hand against it, eyeing Rick who struggled to his feet, breath hoarse and pained, lifting the gun as if anticipating another attack. The other man shook his head, sitting casually with his legs spread and arms resting on his knees.

"It's too late, Rick." Daryl muttered, watching him. "She probably already got to 'im."

"You...you always were...a miserable bastard." Rick's voice sounded wrecked, barely above a whisper and painful to hear. He lowered the gun, arm heavy at his side. There was a dark ring already starting around the lining of his lip was split and a bruise was blossoming just under his eye. Guilt welled in Daryl's chest at the sight of it, but he offered on apology. Rick needed to learn and it it took beating him down to do so, so be it.

"W...what's it...what's it gonna take, Daryl?" Rick asked, bloodshot eyes seeming to stare through him. "More death? When's it gonna be enough?" He stepped away from Daryl, nearly falling back onto the dirt, shoulders slumped and head tilted as if trying to alleviate any pain. He stared down at Daryl who spit at his feet.

"When Negan's in the dirt. I see how he looked at ya. Every time we went to ya. He never shut about about ya. Makes me wonder if ya started somethin' with him that ya didn't wanna finish." Rick stared at him like he had been punched in the gut and Daryl laughed humorlessly. "Can only 'magine what he'd have done to ya if he had won. Probably have ya on his bed with ya hands and feet cut off. But ya wanted to show 'im mercy..."

"It's not like that Daryl." Rick's voice sounded like it was dragged through glass. Daryl hoped it hurt.

"You'll see. It ain't your world no more." Daryl struggled to his feet, never taking his eyes off of Rick as he back towards the motorcycle. Rick made no move towards him, watching him with that pallid lost expression he wore often. Daryl pulled the bike up, slinging his leg over it and starting the engine. It roared to life and he gripped at the handles with his bloody knuckles. He tore off down the street, blowing dirt and dust in his wake, as he left Rick behind, staring after him.

It was time to end this.

* * *

Rick waited about ten seconds before coming back to himself. He took his radio from his hip, bringing it to his lips. "Michonne. If you're near...if you...if you're near Negan. Stay there. Maggie's comin' Daryl's on his way, don't let him down there. I'll try to be there as fast as I can." He began to move, feeling as if he had aged the span of twenty years in ten minutes.

After a moment the radio went off. **"Rick, I'm with Negan right now. What happened? You don't sound good."** Michonne sounded concerned and he could hear Negan's warbled voice in the background. Rick kept walking, turning his face to the side to cough before pressing the button to reply.

"Disa...greement with...with Daryl." He replied, struggling to get the words past his throat. He swore he could hear Michonne's scowl in response.

 **"You alone?"** Michonne's voice dropped and Rick peered around his surroundings, seeing only trees. No walkers were nearby, small miracles. His feet felt unsteady under him, much like when he had woken up in that hospital in this new terrible world.

"Yeah, he's heading' your way on the...bike." There was a long moment of silence and Rick kept walking. The radio crackled again.

 **"I'm radioing Tara. If you're near the main road, head there and she'll find you and grab you."** Rick thanked her before moving back towards the main road, rubbing absently at his neck, fighting down a wave of nausea. He stumbled forward, hand darting out to catch himself before he fell on his face. He dug his fingers into the dead leaves, dirt gathering under his nails. The radio came to life once more, Michonne's voice calling out to him. **"I'll see you soon, Rick."** It was not a question. He pressed the button.

"Yeah...I'll be there. Wait for me." He approached the main road, legs shaking and he slowly sank onto the pavement, setting the radio down and closing his eyes, face turned up towards the bit of sunlight filtering through the leaves. For a moment he enjoyed the silence. Sitting still helped alleviate the pain in his neck. Last time fingers had been wrapped around his throat like that, it had been an enemy. Now, he wasn't so sure. The leaves rustled and the radio remained silent. He knew Michonne. He knew she would do what she needed to. In the distance, he heard the rumbling of an approaching truck. He peered down the road, wiping absently at his bloody lip which had grown tacky. Tara's voice came over the radio, greeting him in that friendly, worried manner of hers. Rick pressed his fingertips against the bruised flesh and for the first time in a long time, he prayed.


	2. Chapter 2

The fallout of Daryl's assault had been all toosilent. It might as well have been screaming. Carol's look of disgust had been telling when she had crossed paths with him at the camp. She didn't need to say anything. That look was enough. She had turned away, hiking her bag over her shoulder as she and Ezekiel headed for the path towards the kiNGDOM. Daryl stared after her, throat tightening.

Maggie had been mortified by his actions, causing Daryl to panic at the prospect of losing her. He had followed at her heels, Jesus watching as he reached for her hand, trying to get her to understand where he was coming from.

"Maggie, ya know I'd never have really hurt 'im." He had argued at her aghast expression as she looked back at him. "You know I could do it." Maggie pulled her arm free, shaking her head. She packed up a step, face stormy.

"His throat tells another story, Daryl." Maggie settled down on the porch, arms crossing. "I want Negan dead for a number of reasons. But the last damn thing I want is to see Rick hurt because of it." She cared for Rick. Despite all the anger and heartbreak, Rick was still family.

"I did it for y-"

"No, you did it for yourself. Don't drag me into this." Maggie drummed her fingers on her knee. "I appreciate your concern but I do not appreciate what you did. You always act without thinkin'. You're an adult Daryl. Start owning up to it." She stood, nodding to Jesus before heading towards the door. Daryl attempted to call out to her and the woman side, head tipping back. "You need to see him, Daryl. You need to fix this." She left him with these words.

Eventually, Daryl knew _she_ would come for him. He felt like her eyes were on him at all times, following and accusing. She waited one day before going after him. Michonne was silent as she stalked towards his tent. People were quick to step aside, recognizing that stormy look on her face as she moved. She offered Darly no greeting, throwing the flap of the tent open and fixing the man with a chilling glare. When she spoke, it was with an icy calm.

"You and Rick have been awfully hostile lately." Michonne began, conversationally, arms crossed as she leaned against the pole. Daryl grunted in response, looking away to continue unwinding the rope. Michonne allowed him the silence for a few moments, gathering herself to speak.

"What do ya want, Michonne?" Daryl muttered. Her eyes snapped to his mouth curling into something cruel and spiteful.

"His throat Daryl, I want you to tell me yourself _why_ his throat is black and blue." Michonne took a step forward, dark eyes fixed on the man who set his jaw as he stared back. "I want you to tell me _why_ you held him down and strangled him. Then in the same breath say you're doing what's best for the community. Sounds like bullshit to me. You're doing what's best for you. Don't drag anyone else into it." Daryl shook his head. He tossed the rope aside, giving up on unraveling it.

'I ain't doin' this now." He made a move to walk out of the tent, but Michonne cut him off.

"I'm not done." Michonne's voice did not rise, but it had the effect of a whip, cracking through the silent air and stopping Daryl in his tracks. "You better start talking, Daryl. My patience is nonexistent." Daryl's eyes remained fixed on the woman, lip curling into a sneer.

"Ya want me ta talk? Fine. Abe's dead. So's Glenn 'n Sasha. Good people gone while that monster gets ta keep breathin'." Daryl retorted, face twitching as he tried to reign in his anger." "I can't stand it! It ain't fair!" Michoone releiased a humorless bark of laughter, arms extending out.

"Look around you. Life isn't fair. _Nothing_ is fair anymore. We are trying to build something here and all you are focused on is your own pain. I can understand Maggie's anger. She lost her husband to Negan. If it had been Rick I would be furious, too. But you...what right do you have to throw stones when the choices you've made have affected us all?" She was talking about Glenn. Daryl knew this. His actions that lead to Glenn's death lingered in the back of his mind, always there to bring him down low. Always there to remind him why baby Hershel had no daddy. He looked away.

"Ya don't know what it was like in there. I was their damn dog."

"I know," Michonne murmured. "I don't know what it's like. it's why I don't try to compare my own personal losses to yours. They're your own. Your healing is your own. Just like Rick's is his, but obviously you don't care about that, do you?"

"Ya see how Negan looked at Rick. Ya heard what he used ta say." Daryl fingers clenched and unclenched. "Rick saw it too. He-"

"You don't put that on Rick. Whatever Negan's obsession, you don't make Rick out to be part of that." Michonne had seen those looks. She knew what Negan wanted from Rick and she would be damned if she allowed _Daryl_ to put Rick in such a position.

"Why'd he do it then?" Daryl asked, voice raw. "Why'd he let 'im live?" The woman closed her eyes, throat bobbing as she gathered herself. She had memorized the letter. Word for word, line by line. That childish handwriting, shaking at times but still managing to write what he needed.

"Car-" She began and Daryl shook his head, greasy hair flying from the force.

"Carl's **_dead_**!" He snapped. "Rick ain't doin' this for him. He's doin' it for his own self. He's obsessed with Negan. Carl wouldn't wan-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" Michonne pointed a slender finger in his face. "You have **_no_** damn right to say what Carl would or wouldn't have wanted. You have to right to pretend to understand his motives." Daryl huffed, tuning away and pacing the small space of the tent. He shook his head, running a hand through dark greasy hair.

"They shoulda' been killed. All of 'em. It wasn't his choice ta make. Maggie shoulda' made the call. It wasn't his ta make."

"Maybe not. Maybe it shouldn't have happened like that. But he made it and where's Dwight, Daryl? Seems you had mercy in your heart to let him go. And I can assure you, he was right there at Negan's shoulder killing on his order." Daryl looked away. Michonne sighed, arms crossed and balancing her weight on the balls of her feet. She stared down at the ground for a second, expression pinched. "Someone needed to lead us." Michonne finally spoke. "Rick's doing the best he can."

'He's not doin' good enough." Daryl turned, gathering the rope back into his arms. Michonne watched him, offering a mocking laugh at this.

"Oh? You'd step up? It would be a bit difficult to understand you since you spend most of your time grunting and avoiding everyone." Michonne replied coolly. Daryl whirled around on her but the woman held firm. "I seem to recall you with that gang...the Claimers? You might not have known their intentions, but there you were. Water under the bridge now but hell, if you want to stay throwing stones, make sure you're untouchable. I can bet there are folks with the Saviors that were there to survive. Just like you and the Claimers."

"Ya can't compare them. Claimer's didn't do what Saviors did. They were fucked up. But we walked away, nothing lost. Ya can't-"

"Carl was going to be raped. I consider that reason enough..Loss. We've all lost someone. You've lost people, Rick's lost people. I've lost people. You're our friend, Daryl. You're Rick's brother. Do you think anyone wants this? We have to adapt. Otherwise, we all die."

"My brother's dead." Daryl replied, voice strained. "Rick ain't my brother. I don't know who he is anymore." He blinked hard, as if the words were difficult to say.

Michonne shook her head. "Then you don't deserve him." She turned on her heel, righteous fury sending her away from the man.

"Michonne, wait-" The woman turned, dark eyes narrowed at Daryl.

"You're a good man Daryl. But you let your temper get the best of you. I just don't want you to do anything you would regret." Another mention of Glenn, another reminder of what he had done. "Both of you are so prideful," Michonne wiped at her face in exasperation. "I can talk to Rick and have someone else put in charge of the Sanctuary, but that means you need to be more active here or where we put you. No more going off on your own. No more you versus the world."

Daryl looked reluctant, but slowly he nodded. Michonne relaxed at this, cold expression softening. She stepped aside, allowing him to pass. "Oh and one more thing, Daryl," The man turned and Michonne stepped very close. "If I ever see Rick like that again because of your actions, I will make you beg for something as merciful as Negan."

* * *

That night, Negan was waiting for Rick. "Looks like you went through the ringer, Rick." Negan drawled, as Rick reached the bottom step leading to his cell. Rick inclined his head in silent greeting, pushing a tray of food towards the man. "Heard most of it on the radio. All this for little old me? I'm startin' to think you're warming up to me." Rick stared back, expression cold.

"Trust me, I ain't." He replied, voice still a wreck and sounding weak. Negan help his hands up defensively.

"I'm just saying, Rick. It sure looks like you do. Out there defending my honor from your hillbilly." Rick made an exasperated noise, cold blue eyes fixed on Negan without a hint of amusement.

"I'm not defending your _honor_. I'm just not lettin' you be killed."

"Oh, and why was that again?" Negan hummed, leaning forward against the bars.

"Carl asked for peace. I couldn't save him, so I wanted to honor his last wish. I owed him that much." Rick explained himself, not wanting to give Negan the impression that there were any other sort of motives. Negan huffed out a laugh, studying Rick with large dark eyes.

"And you think he'd be pleased to see his daddy looking' like some kind of battered wife?" Negan sounded oddly upset by this and it made Rick feel self conscious, like he was under a microscope. He shrugged, avoiding Negan's eyes.

"Not everyone agreed with my call. I get it." Negan's eyes lingered on Rick's throat but he said nothing. He chewed his food for a moment. He set the food aside, leaning back against the wall.

"No you see, I'd understand if you were some nobody who happened to get a good shot, but you've been leading these people for years and they had no issue. Let you fight the big battles, let you make the hard choices. It's off their conscience then. It's all on you. But the moment you make a choice they don't agree with...well..." His eyes lingered on Rick's throat. "Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Much as I hate to fucking admit it, you probably saved a bunch of those assholes by letting me live. My people would have fought to the death if I went down. Just like yours would have. That's the funny thing about people. They're happy to follow and benefit until suddenly they feel slighted. I get the Widow...I get it. But Daryl? Boy had it better than it could have been-"

"You enslaved him." Rick dully noted and Negan sighed dramatically, lifting his hands.

"And yet, he had all his extremities. His face isn't anymore fucked up then it already looks-" He snorted, thick brows waggling.

Rick's head shot up, mouth thinning in fury at this. "Don't try to justify what you did. You know you were wrong." He watched as Negan's mirthful expression faded into something almost confused.

"I...well shit, Rick. I'm just trying to defend your honor. Why are you so offended." Rick swallowed, the motion painful. He looked back down, studying his boots and feeling like a child being scolded by a teacher.

"He accused me of...he accused me of having something ongoing with you." He motioned between himself and Negan and the man's lips curled at this, tongue waggling at the thought. Rick's face flushed at this, feeling that delicate control slipping at Negan's expression.

"Don't I fuckin' wish! Imagine the things I'd do with you, Rick! Could wear those pretty thighs on yours as earmuffs." Negan sniggered. Rick looked away, rubbing at his arm. Negan's face fell. "Awww c'mon Rick, you can't be that upset over your hillbilly boyfriend bein' jealous." He pushed away his tray, looking lmost offended. Rick huffed out a sigh, not bothering to fall into the seat, knowing he would have trouble getting back up.

"I have an obligation to these people. If they're thinkin'-" Negan smacked his palm against the bars, slowly standing.

"No, they're not all thinking that, Rick," Negan's voce was oddly gentle, soothing as he spoke. "Your boy Daryl just wanted to twist the knife. Everyone and their mother knows you and the samurai are the apocalypse's 'It' couple." He settled back on the mattress, head tilting as he studied Rick. "Your boy better pray he doesn't fuck up like that again. I think there's gonna be a list of people at his door, ready to cut his shit and I may just be there with them." He smiled again, something softer than what Rick was used to. He looked away, cheeks aflame.

"Just eat your food."

* * *

Daryl approached him that night, waiting until Michonne was up in bed before walking through the door and finding rick cleaning the kitchen. "Rick." Daryl greeted, ducking his head and looking down at his feet. Rick slowly stood, setting the box down and wiping his hands absently on the jeans. The ring around his neck was ugly and dark, black and stark against the pale skin of his throat. It shamed Daryl to look at.

"Daryl." His voice felt oddly loud in the night, his fingers itched to do something, make himself useful.

"Can we...uh, can we talk?" Daryl asked, looking at a point over Rick's shoulder. Rick nodded absently, stepping back to give Daryl some room. Daryl reminded him of the child being sent to the Principal's office. "Really made a mess of things, didn't I?" He blew out a breath and Rick remained silent, offering no words of condemnation or comfort. The older man leaned against the counter, staring down at his wrapped knuckles.

"How's the throat?"

"Why are you here, Daryl?" Rick snapped at this, voice cracking from the force of it. Daryl huffed another breath, looking chastised.

"I came to apologize. I'm sorry Rick. I shouldn't have done it." He looked up, suddenly anxious. Rick fought the urge to brush it aside, assure him it was water under the bridge.

Instead Rick watched him with cool detachment. "You don't regret it, Daryl. You wouldn't have even et it get that far if you hadn't meant it." Daryl flinched at this, shoulders pulling in as if struck. Rick was not having it. Daryl was not the wounded party in this. "That _last_ damn thing I would have seen as I died would have been your face, the man I call my _brother_...but then again, you already mentioned Shane. Probably would have been justice."

"Rick, I did'n-"

'Is that your excuse? You never mean it, Daryl. Your temper just always gets the best of you. Hw many times now can you say that?"

"That's not fair, Rick." Daryl spat out, slamming his palms down on the counter. "I messed up! I know it! I'm sorry!" Rick crossed his arms over his chest, fighting the urge to look to Carl's handprint for support.

"We can move on from this. Michonne and I talked. I'll move you from the Sanctuary. But you're not goin' to the Kingdom. If you wanna stand there and try to override my every decision, you're gonna actually be involved. No more hiding. No more of...this." He indicated vaguely to between the pair and Daryl nodded mechanically.

"I wanna help."

"Good, because we're gonna need you." Rick replied. He arranged the box back onto the counter, marking them off on a paper sitting nearby. Daryl quietly waited for him to finish. When it became clear Rick was done speaking, Daryl stepped forward.

"We gotta talk 'bout this." He tried to argue and Rick waved a dismissive hand.

"Nothing to talk about." Rick replied without looking up from what he was writing.

"Rick-" The man looked up, eyes starkly blue, the red still visible from the blood vessels. Daryl fell silent at the sight of those eyes.

"It's late, Daryl. I have thangs to do tomorrow. We both need to get some rest." Daryl nodded reluctantly, fiddling with a loose button on his jacket. "We'll talk later." It sounded like Rick was just saying that to make him leave, but Daryl latched onto it with desperation, nodding and swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Yeah...yeah later..." He rambled, stepping away from the counter. He backed towards the hall, hoping that Rick would stop him, say something and pull him back. Rick did not look up, attention now resolutely trained on the paperwork. Daryl slowly turned, dragging his feet towards the front door and the darkened street. Each step felt like a life sentence. He kept walking, trying to put as much distance between himself and Rick as possible. As if lingering would drag back his actions on that dusty road. He kept moving. Maybe he needed to leave. For the best of everyone. Maybe he needed to just go.


End file.
